Gravitas
by stelena1981
Summary: Stefan regains his humanity but it's a slow journey. Something always brings Elena back to him.


_Something always brings me back to you  
>It never takes too long<br>No matter what I say or do  
>I still feel you here 'til the moment I'm gone<em>

The first thing Stefan does after killing Klaus is go to the Salvatore boarding house and diligently clean his room, picking up all the lamps and books that had been thrown to the ground. He puts all of his new memories in his armoire.

And then he packs a box of belongings and a bag of clothing and his journal and he leaves. He had talked about it with Ric for the briefest of moments. Since Ric now lived at the Gilbert house, Stefan wondered if he could move to his place.

The first night there is the hardest. There's nothing but time sitting in that space.

The same space where he sacrificed his sobriety in exchange for Damon's life. The same space where he binged on so much blood he couldn't feel anything but he felt everything.

He sat there.

A gentle rap on the door pulled him from his thoughts. Stefan stood up and walked to the door, opening it without a concern for who might be on the other side. It was only so many options to begin with. And if it were someone to kill him, well, it was what it was.

Elena looked at him like she was at once trying to and trying not to take him all in. Like she was trying to keep her barrier up. But all she would need to take it down was one word from him.

"Stefan. Hi. Ric…he…he told me you moved here."

"Yeah. I don't feel right about being at home."

"Can I?" she makes a nod of her chin stand in for wanting an invitation inside the apartment.

He moves himself out of the way so she can enter.

He watches her as she moves through the space, looking at where and what he's put there. It's not much. His toiletries. A few photos-he left the photos of them at the boarding house. His journal.

"How long are you planning to stay here, Stefan?"

"I don't know."

There's a photograph of he and Lexi at a Bon Jovi concert on the bar. His hair was longer and infused with hairspray but he looked the same. Lexi's hair was also full of Aquanet and teased to the utmost. But he looked free. Stefan told her about that concert and the way they compelled Jon Bon Jovi to let them hang out with the band for the night. At the time, she laughed at Stefan and Lexi's antics and was simultaneously jealous that she wasn't able to participate.

She totally understood why that photo was there now. She moved her fingertips around the frame. And then she turned around to face him.

He faced her but his head was hung low and his hands were deep in his pockets. He didn't know what to say.

Where to start.

Neither did she really.

"I…I've gotta…take a shower." He was giving her an out. An excuse to leave.

"Oh. I…Do you mind if I wait for you"? she asked feeling just as awkward.

When had they become these people? They were never awkward with each other.

He shook his head and walked away toward the bathroom.

He stayed in there longer than he needed. He wanted her to feel comfortable about leaving. She owed him nothing. Not even courtesy. Or familiarity. Or friendliness.

He stepped out of the bathroom with his sweats on and his t-shirt and saw that she was still there, lying across the couch. Asleep.

He put a blanket over her and sat across from her just watching.

At 6 am he drove 15 miles toward the nearest town to attend an NA meeting. He was shaky. He never tried this approach before. But he knew deep down that unless he came to grips with his past, he would be down this road again. And eternity was a long time to make the same mistakes.

Elena woke disoriented. She focused and realized she was in Alaric's apartment now lived in by Stefan. He must have covered her last night. How did she even fall asleep? She was so nervous she thought she'd explode; not sleep. But there was something about being in the same space as Stefan that made her body calm in a way she could not explain.

She looked for him in bed but saw it was still made up. She searched for him throughout the apartment but came up empty.

A momentary fright came over her that he had done something. To someone. Or to himself.

She remembered the man she saw last night who could barely make words or eye contact. That man was not a danger. But that he would just leave. That he could leave so easily and not leave a note or wake her? Just like he had all summer?

That worried her more than anything.

She folded the blanket and walked around once more, memorizing this room and his smell—she would never admit that she missed his smell but she did, she did so much—and then she left to get ready for school.

He didn't come to school today. No one had heard or seen from him. Not that they would—her friends all had their own problems now. No one had time to look out for Stefan—unless he was trying to kill them.

Not like how he looked out for them.

Sometimes when Elena got flashes of memory about her and Stefan she had to go sit in the bathroom stall for a few moments. She would see something that would trigger a memory—always the sense memories, always the ones that made her remember how he smelled or how it felt when he touched her back with the tips of his fingers or what he looked like in the middle of the night—and it would reduce her to tears and shakiness.

She would ask for permission to go to the bathroom or she would excuse herself from lunch with her friends to go to the bathroom, shake and cry and then get herself back together with no one the wiser.

When she could catch her breath after this latest bout, she washed her face and grabbed her bag and checked herself out of school early.

She contemplated going to see Damon. Settled for sending him a text telling him to go see his brother.

Received a snarky response in return. Unsurprising. They'd figure it out.

Also unsurprising that she ended up right back at Stefan's new place.

She knocked again. He opened the door again. Today she had more courage and just slid under his arm to enter the house and sit on the couch without asking.

"Where'd you go so early this morning"?

"I went to a meeting."

"A meeting? What kind of meeting is had at 6 am, Stefan"?

"Narcotics Anonymous. In the next town over."

Her face, unprepared for that revelation, at best approximation, fell. "Oh." She gets up and walks over to where he stood near the bar.

"How-how was it?" she whispers. Her concern with regard to Stefan, usually the first thing she shows, but of late was hidden to keep him from using that against her to hurt her, emerges, mixed with shame that she doubted his whereabouts. Doubted that he was coming back to himself.

"Hard. Boring. Scary. Useless if I give in to the dark parts of my mind."

"What about the other parts? How did they feel afterward"? she asks, moving even closer to him.

"Relieved that I wasn't the only one who felt powerless to something. Scared that I will miss this chance."

She takes a deep breath. She reaches out and touches his shoulder. Their first touch since he caught her. First touch only before that when he bit her. First touch only before that when she hugged him and when he let her go. First touch only before that when she hugged him and passed him some strength to figure out how to save Damon.

God, did that seem like years ago.

"I'm proud of you Stefan. I am so proud of you for doing this."

He breathed deeply at her touch. And looked down. When he heard her speak he dared to look up at her. Her eyes confirmed what she said.

He nodded and moved himself from her touch. Moved to sit on the couch. She gathered herself and sat on the couch across from him.

She stayed the night again. Woke up before him (him leaving her again even for a meeting caused too much hurt) and left him a note that reminded him she was proud.

For days this was the routine. She'd leave school early. Arrive at his place. Ask after his meetings (he had been going to two a day). Sit in silence. She'd fall asleep. Wake up the next morning. Leave a note.

But the variations of them started playing in the structure. He'd leave the door open. He left her a spare key on the coffee table. He'd make sandwiches for lunch. He'd cook dinner. They'd both sit and journal. She'd sleep in his bed. He'd sleep on the couch. They'd leave at the same time in the mornings.

"You can't come around here anymore, Elena. You have a life. Family. Friends that you need to support. My brother. This is like coming to a cemetery." Stefan said it to her after she came in from school one afternoon. "You don't have to worry. I'm not going to hurt myself or anyone else. I can do this part by myself."

It's what she had been waiting for him to say while he was under Klaus's compulsion. She wanted him to fight for it on his own. It's what she told him the night she left him locked up.

But now? Now that made her breath catch. "I'm not worried you're going to hurt someone, Stefan. That's not why I'm here."

He moved over to the bar that overlooked the kitchen. Stared at nothing in particular. "This is where Klaus and I made the deal to save Damon's life. He just put a dagger in Elijah and Katherine was trapped inside forcing her to watch everything. And he stabbed me for fun. I told him I needed his help to save Damon and he offered me a drink. And then another. And another. And another. So much blood. So much blood that made me only want more. He was throwing it to me as I fell to my knees catching it. And I agreed to be in his service. Not much longer after you let me know Damon was safe, I killed a girl. First girl I killed in decades. And that was it."

He turns to look at her. Her jaw is tight and her eyes are mixed full of sadness and hatred and anger and guilt. If she could kill Klaus again for destroying their lives-Stefan's life-the way he had, she would. A thousand times.

Stefan sees that her arms are folded against her chest. She's protecting herself against him, he thinks.

"So when I say you're in a cemetery, I'm not just being metaphorical. The Stefan you loved died right here."

She unfolds her arms finally allowing herself to move over to him. She held herself back because she would have grabbed him and held on tight. But he needed to say what he did.

"I don't believe that Stefan. What you went through for Damon and everything after was horrible. For you, for us, for Damon. A lot happened. You gave up a lot to keep us safe. But you're not dead. You're here. And you're fighting for your life back. I want to help you do it."

"No you don't. I don't need you here with me. I don't need a reminder of what I've lost. I've lost you. I've lost friends. I've lost myself. You feel responsible for me but you can let me go. I can't have you here with me and not have you _with me_. I remember what you said to me the night Lexi locked me up. You said you wouldn't spend your life loving a ghost and I...I can't. I'm too far behind to catch up. I—I can't catch up."

Elena just looks at him. Her heart breaking at the way he interpreted her words. "No, Stefan. You think you've lost me? Stefan, I've been here with you for weeks. Sitting in silence with you. Following your lead. Watching you figure out how to deal with a century of pain. Weeks of waiting for you to let me back in."

"No. I know you. I know you are worried about me but you don't have to worry."

"Stefan, shut up. I love you. I am in love with you. With the good parts. With the bad parts. With everything in-between. I want you whole, I want all of you. I'm not lost. I'm here. I'm here, Stefan." She keeps repeating that to him as she moves closer to him and puts her hand on his heart and her other on his cheek. She kisses him. And then she kisses him again. And she breathes out her nervousness and her raw desire for him.

He can't meet her eyes. He can't believe it's true. It would destroy him if it weren't true. Elena lifts his chin up so she can look at him. He's in such pain; in his mind, he has lost everything.

"I could never turn my back on you. I could never walk away from you, Stefan. But will you walk away from me? From us?"

Stefan looks at her and slowly puts his arms around her. He hugs her and Elena lets out the breath she has been holding for four months.

"I'm sorry for everything, Elena. It might not mean much but I love you too."

The laugh mixes with the sadness and comes out like a choke in her throat.

"It means everything."

The days go on with their routine established. And with new variations every day. Stefan still attends his six am meeting. And then he picks Elena up and they drive to school. He goes and visits with his brother. Elena goes and visits with Damon. She hangs with Bonnie and Caroline and spends time with Jeremy. When she gets home, Stefan has usually just finished preparing dinner. They talk some, they hold hands while they journal, they sleep in the same bed. They make out. Elena tries for more—uses her knowledge of Stefan's body to coax him into more but he's not ready.

But soon.

When he wakes in the middle of the night begging for the forgiveness of his victims who haunt him in his dreams, she is there to console him.

He'll go out with Elena and Alaric for training sessions helping Elena build her strength.

And then, on a particularly draining day, when the monkey was strong on his back, she did something completely unexpected: she made him laugh.

They slipped away one evening driving to the town Stefan visited every morning. He held her hand the entire drive down.

When they arrived, he was afraid to leave the car. She moved to caress his cheek and kissed it. And then kissed him softly. "Let's go inside, okay"?

He received his 30 days sobriety coin that night and she was there. Damon showed up right before his name was called and he gave his speech. She slid over and gripped his hand and looked at him her eyes filled with tears of gratitude.

When Stefan's name was called, Elena looked away from him, let go of Damon's hand, stood up and clapped so hard her hands hurt. And she couldn't stop the tears that fell as she focused on Stefan. "I love you," she mouthed to him. "Thank you," he mouthed back. He looked at her and his brother grateful for second chances.

As far as Elena was concerned, there was no other place in the world she would have rather been.


End file.
